


Gravity

by The Missus (schwarmerei1)



Series: The First Series [3]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarmerei1/pseuds/The%20Missus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim allows Kerry back<br/>Spoilers: Up to 7.16 “Witch Hunt”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

Kim had made salad and soup, and had already set the table.  She had sprinkled light handfuls of Kerry’s petals over the table, under the plates.  In fact, there were quite a few rogue bits of color all over the room.  Kerry raised an eyebrow and pointed around.  “Did you have a good time with those?”  

Kim chuckled and made puppy-eyes at Kerry.  She eventually admitted that she had taken a double handful and thrown them up to the ceiling, letting them shower down on her upturned face.  Kerry would have given anything to see Kim playing with such abandon.  She beamed at her.  

Kim, just a little embarrassed, went off to bring out the food.  “Isn’t this all a little too healthy for you?” Kerry teased.  

“Well, I did have some Pringles when I was making the salad in the kitchen,” Kim admitted.  She paused to let the horror on Kerry’s face die down.  “And a little beef jerky,” she added.  Kerry burst into laughter.  

“What?!” Kim pouted. “It’s got more protein than those shakes you insist on!”   

Kerry wiped her eyes with her napkin.  “I just cannot believe that someone as beautiful as you can eat something as disgusting as that and still make me want to kiss you.”  Kerry glanced up to see if she had strayed too far past Kim’s comfort zone.  She needn’t have worried. 

“I wouldn’t have the strength to kiss you properly if I weren’t fortified,” Kim play-huffed.  Kerry felt her words as a set of rapid twitches somewhere in the south of her abdomen.  

Kerry picked up a creamy-blush petal from the table, recognizing an offering from a tulip she had denuded that morning.  She patted the chair next to her and Kim slid over to sit beside her.  Kerry tucked the petal among three fingers, so that her index and ring fingers lay against the concave side, leave the shiny convex surface and the pad of her middle finger on the outside, to touch Kim’s face as drew her in for a sweet kiss.  Kim shivered as she felt the petal and the slightly rough edge of Kerry’s cuticle slide along her cheek.  

Kerry made it clear that this kiss was for Kim, opening her mouth to her, but not seeking.  Kim could not resist her, and she slid her tongue easily between Kerry’s lips, reacquainting herself with her tender mouth.  Kerry trembled.  It had been so long between them, and she didn’t want to hope.  So much was hanging on their next few hours together.  ‘Everything, really’ she needlessly reminded herself.  

It was a sobering thought, but even in its gravity it was no match for the power of the simple fact that Kim’s tongue was touching her.  She deepened their kiss, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her moan.  Kim’s neck hair stood when she heard it, and she wrapped her arms around Kerry, pulling her closer even as she sucked gently on her tongue.  Kerry’s hands came into her hair, wanting more.

When Kim finally needed a breath, she broke their kiss briefly.  “Wow,” she inhaled. “M-hmm,” Kerry breathed.  Kim bent to begin again, but Kerry caught her lips on the petal in her hand.  “You have flowers in your hair, Dr. Legaspi,” she announced.  “No shit, Dr. Weaver,” Kim replied, smiling.  Kerry laughed, then relaxed into a smile.  She fluffed at Kim’s tousled hair fondly, then caught her eye and said, soberly, “I want to wash your hair, Kim.”  Her voice was dusky and threatened to crack.  She repeated herself when Kim didn’t answer.  “I want to take you to your bathroom.”  She kissed her cheek. “Put you in a hot tub.”  She kissed the other.  “And wash your hair.”  She returned to Kim’s mouth and traced her lips with the tip of her tongue.  Kim’s mouth parted instantly but Kerry didn’t press.  “Is that a yes, Kim?” she said, seriously.  She took Kim’s face between her hands.  “May I?” she asked, eye to eye.

Kim nodded, mutely.  Her heart was racing, and she wasn’t certain whether she was afraid or excited.  She knew that if Kerry had her naked they would end up in bed eventually.  Her mind raced ahead to scout for trouble.  Lord knows, Kim had been focused on just this sort of moment since Kerry’s daily campaign had begun.  Kim suffered intense desire for Kerry; even she was impressed by the depths to which this redhead moved her body.  

She had known it would fall to her, eventually, to make the call on when or if they were going to resume their sexual relationship.  Maybe now was crunch time, but she wasn’t sure whether Kerry would try to push her all the way through it today.  Or tonight.  Kerry had shown the most loving restraint over the past few weeks, perhaps she _had_ acquired the strength to bathe her and put her to bed, leaving to sleep in her own bed tonight?  Kim didn’t need to replay their previous evenings together to know how unlikely a scenario that was.  Or was that then and now was now?  She decided to let Kerry ask her.  And she decided to say yes to her whenever she did. 

“Come back here, baby,” Kerry whispered to her.  Kim dropped her musing and returned Kerry’s glowing gaze.  “May I?” she repeated.  Kim kissed her, still for quite a while.  “Yes,” she said when she released her mouth, “I’d really like that.”

Kerry went to the bathroom and started the water.  She noticed that her shampoo and conditioner were still sitting, undiscarded, near the back of the linen closet.  She smiled, touched and heartened, and decided to use them.  She remembered how Kim had gone mad for the smell of her hair.  She pulled out far too many towels as she waited for the hot water to get going well.  She pulled the shower curtain tightly back and secured it, and found the large clear pitcher she remembered from the cupboard.  She went to the kitchen and got two glasses of ice water, and told Kim on the way back that she should come in when she was ready.  

Kim finished cleaning up from their meal with lightning speed.  She was almost in the bathroom when she spied Kerry taking her pink silk robe from the hook behind the door, running her hand over the texture of it, looking at the folded fabric with such a thick sadness that it pulled at Kim’s heart.  ‘Oh, please let all that be over, baby,’ she sent out to her silently.  ‘Can’t all of that be over now?’  She so wanted Kerry to want to stay.

She watched while Kerry shook off her thoughts and took the robe with her into the bathroom.  Kim came in a few steps behind and smiled.  “Wow.  This is going to be wonderful, Kerry.”  “I’ll do my damndest, Kim,” Kerry smiled back.  “Let’s get those flowers out of that mane of yours.”  

Kerry handed her the robe and pointed to the bedroom.  Kim quietly undressed in the other room and returned, wrapped in the pink robe that Kerry had given her.  Kerry had prepared herself, or so she thought, but it hadn’t done any good.  The sight of Kim in _that_ robe in _this_ bathroom went right to the core of her, inflaming every nerve ending at once.  She struggled to keep her breathing steady as she tested the water.  Hot, but not scalding.  Perfect.  

She stood to give Kim her hand, and when Kim was about to step in, Kerry held the shoulders of her robe for her.  Kim stepped forward, settling into the water, and Kerry let her robe drop.  Such a sight Kim was.  She was thinner than Kerry recalled, the doctor in her irritated and making a mental note to push some nutrition on this woman.  The lover in her felt a surge of protectiveness as Kim settled into the water, sighing with deep relief.  

Kerry knelt by the side of the tub, settling herself quite comfortably and turning an appreciative gaze to the woman in the water.  She floated just at the surface, her knees, nipples, hands, and face were above the water, but everything else was below.  Soaking.  So was she.

Kerry slipped one strong hand under the back of Kim’s head, holding her securely up out of the water and letting the rest of her body just float and relax.  Kim moaned as she realized that there was nothing she needed to pay attention to.  Kerry had her, and she was going to take care of everything.  She let the sensations sink in; only Christy had ever wanted to wash her, and then it had been a brief shower thing.  Kim had not been bathed in a tub by another person since childhood.

Kerry filled the pitcher she’d brought out and poured a small quiet stream of water over and along Kim’s hairline, wetting her roots.  She combed that through with her fingers and repeated the maneuver several times, until all of Kim’s hair was untangled and wet through.  Kim lost herself to the rhythmic drumming of the water on her skin, then the patterned sweeping of Kerry’s strong fingers.  She melted.  

Kerry pulled Kim’s head up a few inches from her floating position to work through the shampoo.  Kim started with recognition when she smelled it.  Kerry rinsed her hand in the sudsless water beside Kim’s elbow and wiped away what might have been a tear hanging from Kim’s lower lashes.  She smiled lovingly down at her and leant to kiss her forehead.  

Kim let her lather her, let her rinse her over and over until all the suds were gone.  She felt Kerry massage the conditioner into her squeaky-clean tresses, pausing every now and then to pick an errant petal fragment from them.  Kerry stuck them to the wall in a little pattern over Kim’s head.  “Since you are so artistic,” she giggled to her.  Kim laughed quietly, a deep throaty chuckle that echoed in the tub.  Kerry could not believe that she was here.  

The water was too soapy to rinse the conditioner well, so Kerry decided to let it sit there for awhile.  She turned her attention to the rest of Kim, floating there, tantalizing.  She took another palmful of shampoo and began to wash her, beginning with her neck and throat and shoulders and working down her arms.  She was a little afraid, since they hadn’t talked about it, and she hadn’t really asked if Kim would allow her so tender an intimacy.  Kim barely breathed, but she did open her eyes and find Kerry’s face.  Kerry knit her brows to convey her concern and desire, and Kim’s slightly pained expression didn’t keep her from nodding her consent, and whispering, “Yes.”  

Kerry slid her soapy hand under Kim’s arms, down her sternum and over her belly.  Still holding Kim by the back of her neck, Kerry slid over each breast in turn, not trying to inflame her, but succeeding nonetheless.  She rinsed her lovingly, soaped her palm again, and rested her hand on Kim’s barely submerged abdomen.  She paused to allow Kim to object, but instead, Kim opened her eyes to watch her make slow circles with her hand, washing her flanks, her hips, and down her thighs.  Kerry was too short to reach any further, so Kim turned slightly aside, away from her, and folded her legs.  Kerry soaped her shins, following the edges of Kim’s tibias with wonder.  The vulnerability of those bones had always moved her; Kim’s of course, quite particularly.  She soaped her feet, shampooing each toe and rolling her hand along her arches, relaxing the long muscles there.  Kim mumbled sweet-sounding consonants into the surface of the heavily-scented water.  Kerry spread her support hand to hold Kim’s lips above the water, and reached for the drain plug with the other.

As the water drained, Kerry’s soaping hand trailed up Kim’s legs, staying precisely at the water’s dropping level.  By the time she arrived at the apex of her thighs, the water was exactly at the same height as Kim’s labia.  Kerry stopped the plug and slid her hand quickly back up again.  She started on Kim’s buttocks, slipping easily between.  Kim brought her knees up a bit higher, but Kerry, tuned in as she was, didn’t feel her flinch or stiffen.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  

She rinsed her hand and took a shot of conditioner, rather than the shampoo, to wash Kim’s tenderest skin, and slid the side of her hand between Kim’s legs.  Kim moaned despite herself and rolled slightly to brace her knees and her back against opposite sides of the tub.  Kerry easily lifted her legs apart enough for access, and, rather than rush, she slowly washed Kim’s labia from her center outward, not trying to turn her on (although she was) but working instead to convey with every touch how much she loved and cared for the closed-eyed woman floating heavily beneath her.  

She pulled her hand down Kim’s thighs, still between them, until she hit her knees.  She slid her hand out from between Kim’s limbs, and popped the drain again.  Kim was still plenty soapy, and as the water drained sufficiently for Kerry to rest Kim’s sweet head on a folded towel on the floor of the tub, she turned on the hand-held shower and warmed it up.  Kim shivered slightly, more in anticipation than in cold.  Kerry began at her feet, softly rinsing Kim’s glowing skin.  

Kim felt the light skimming of suds on her body as a sort of lacy covering, clothing her, in a way.  As she felt that rinse away, all that was left was a sort of ultra-nudity, a bareness in front of Kerry that she had never felt before.  She tried to describe it to herself exactly, wanting to share that with Kerry, later.  Right now, it was all she could do to take in the depth of Kerry’s feeling and to lay there wanting to cry in her own bathtub.  She felt pure, beloved, truly clean.  She knew she wanted Kerry that night, right then, or at least soon.  “Stay,” she sob-whispered while Kerry brushed clean rinse water over her shoulders and under her arms.  

__________

Kerry was not certain she’d heard her.  But Kim whimpered again, and Kerry knew: knew what she had said, and that she would stay.  “I will, baby, I will,” she soothed to her.  Kim nodded, giving up the criteria of making Kerry ask, safer now, somehow, to relax with that gone.  Kerry lay her on her back to rinse her breasts and belly and labia, then turned off the water and draped Kim in thick cotton toweling.  She dried her halfway with a brisk massage through the towel, waking up her skin.  She told Kim to lock her arms around her waist, then pulled her upward until Kim could grasp the tub herself and safely stand.  Kerry wrapped her around her back with fresh toweling, and rubbed her dry in the same way.  Kerry wished she could carry her to bed, but instead, by one extended hand, she led Kim into her own bedroom.  She put her in bed and left her there to relax while she picked up the bathroom a bit and took a three-minute shower herself.  

Coming to Kim’s bed wrapped in a towel, Kerry gave her a few sips of ice water, which woke her senses up promptly.  Kerry took a long draught herself, liking the feel of the cold sliding down her throat.  Kim tugged at her towel, making it fall.  She marveled at Kerry’s familiar, yet somehow new body.  The stress had cost Kerry some weight, and she was now too thin, though Kim knew from experience how to fix that.  But she was still so beautiful, and right there in front of her:  Kim couldn’t resist scooting back across the bed to pull Kerry in with her.  

Kerry slipped between Kim’s sheets and was suddenly shy of her.  It had been so long between them; how would they go here again?  How would they say the new things they had to share?  Kerry felt a keen lack of rules... Her emotions were overwhelming and she was lost about how to move through them.  Her desire took the edge from her mind, oh, definitely; even her attention wasn’t her own in bed with Kim.  She desperately wanted this to go well, to leave Kim knowing something she hadn’t known before.  And to know, herself, how they were going to be together.  

Kerry had to know, and Kim had to have her, and so they began over as they had at the absolute start of them, with Kim drawing Kerry to her lips for a strong, soft, soulshattering kiss. But this time, Kerry opened. 


End file.
